Chuck vs His Demons
by Asgardian750
Summary: After Sarah ran off with Shaw, Chuck tried to move on but tragedy soon struck. DarkChuck fic. 7 Part Story. AU WRITTEN BY YOURS TRULY AND SHINYJAYNE19.
1. The Torturer

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chuck.

AN: Thanks to my beta ShinyJayne19

Love, by many accounts was a terrifying thing. You couldn't trust it, and if you did, it'd only be your own undoing. There was countless stories that expand on the notion: how the simple act of opening up could be used against you. It could literally tear you apart. The only thing love could not succeed in doing was to stop the heart from beating completely.

But it did not mean it could not change the person. Sometimes, they'd wish for their hearts to stop all together. Or so the stories say..

And there was not a story more heartbreaking than what happened to Chuck Bartowski.

Three years ago, the young man had poured his hear to a women he had thought he had a chance with. He loved her with every ounce of strength in his mind body and soul. He would do anything for her. He would die for her. He had compromised himself for her. And being in the tumultuous relationship they were in, this woman, Sarah Walker, she had abandoned him because she truly believed it was not possible to love him the way he loved her. She thought Chuck was better off with someone else, someone who could respect him and love him accordingly. And so she left with a man she knew had no business being within a five foot radius around her.

Sarah and Special Agent Daniel Shaw left Burbank without a goodbye to Chuck, or anyone else. It was better that way. No one would get hurt. She wouldn't have to watch Chuck plead for her to stay. She couldn't handle that. It was just too much.

And things were relatively ok from then on. Chuck was depressed but learned to cope with the comfort of his friends, family and even Casey remained in Burbank to serve as the Intersect's partner along with Morgan. Sarah was in Europe with Shaw, living under another alias, participating in clandestine operations that made themselves scarce to anyone in the spy community, let alone Chuck himself. Chuck was done trying to contact Sarah, deeming it useless. His life was coming together; he met a girl, and he just tried to move on. It was working.

Until the Ring had targeted Chuck through some botched mission. An assassin had set up explosives from inside Chuck's apartment while the young spy was at his cover job. Little did the Ring, or Chuck know, but Ellie and Devon had come home early from work. Chuck's sister felt the need to restock her little brother's kitchen because god only knew what the boys kept to eat. Devon followed, groceries in hand. As soon as they walked through the door, tragedy struck: the bombs went off and engulfed the entire building in flames. The Woodcombs died instantly, but left Chuck to suffer.

He lost it.

He had first been abandoned by his mother at a young age; then his father; then Sarah...; now two of the most important people in his life were gone, dead. Ellie was more like his mother rather than an older sister. Devon, he did not deserve this. Neither of them did. but Chuck figured, through whatever his damaged psyche would allow, that he deserved this. People were meant to leave him. He wasn't mean to have a normal, happy life. He promised himself that he wouldn't allow to be hurt again.

He couldn't take anymore of this agony.

But Now, as the years added together, Sarah had come back to the only place she called home. Her relationship with Daniel did not work out as she desperately hoped. Shaw was not Chuck. He was too revenge-driven, searching for his wife's killer to do much anything else. Sarah felt guilty, for she was the one who murdered Evelyn Shaw. The images of her Red Test was always in the back of her mind, just as all those memories belonging to her and Chuck and the time they spent together. And so she ended relationship prematurely before Shaw could get violent. She was in Burbank, not for anything spy-related. It was primarily to see if Chuck was still there. She had not heard a word about the Intersect or anything at all. Casey had even refused to talk to her.

And yet, she and the Colonel were standing behind a two-way mirror. They looked through the translucent glass and saw that a Ring spy was strapped to a chair. He squirmed against the bindings; electrodes sticking to his forehead as a machine was monitoring his vitals. They were spiking up and down. Sarah knew that he had vital information, but really did not seem to care much. Casey let it slip that Chuck was going to be there. It was the only incentive of her coming at all.

"Long time no see," Casey mumbled sarcastically.

Sarah paid no heed to his remark. She rolled her eyes, keeping her gaze firmly on what was ahead of her.

He continued in the same condescending tone, "Didn't think you'd ever show up back here."

She was wrecked with guilt, but did not show it. It had been nearly an hour since she had found out that Ellie and Devon were murdered not a year earlier. God, why did it feel like it was her entire fault?

She steeled herself, gulping, and then changed the subject: "How's Chuck doing?"

Sarah did not meet Casey's eyes, but knew he was silently fuming. What a stupid question. It was obvious how Chuck must've been doing. It was a miracle that he hadn't thrown himself into a psych ward.

"How's Chuck?" He spat, his blue eyes pierced hers, condemning her. "He's fine and dandy, Walker."

There was nothing she could ever say that would make things sound better than they really were. She could never make up for what she had done. And it hurt her, a lot.

"Look, I'm sorry I left, I-"

Casey looked at her in disbelief. He growled lowly, "You dug your grave, now lay in it, Walker." It stung that she had been regulated back to her surname. "A lot has happened in the last few years. There's things that weren't published in Bartowski's dossier..."

It sounded like a warning.

What could Casey possibly be hiding from her?

Sarah whipped her head around once the door to the interrogation room swung open. Stepping inside at a brisk, business-like pace, was Chuck. Her eyes widened, tears were pooling around the edges, waiting to fall. Shock seized her and she could hardly move. What was Chuck doing in there with the Ring agent?

"Chuck..." she whispered.

He could not hear her. From the opposite side of the two-way mirror, he surveyed his work-space until his scrutinizing gaze fell onto the man strapped to the chair. Chuck looked older, matured. His curly brown hair had been sheared; dressed in jeans, a white top and a brown jacket over his shoulders, his hollow eyes locked onto the enemy spy. He was holding onto a grocery bag with one hand. A smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he made his advance.

There was a sigh.

"Here we go," grunted Casey.

It sounded so final. Sarah was going to ask what was going on but found that watching would serve as as a better explanation.

Chuck settled the bag onto the plastic table while also removing the satchel from over his shoulder. The Ring agent watched in muffled silence. He was watching carefully, sweat trickling down his face. Various contents were strewn about: A bottle of Johnny Walker Whiskey, a syringe, salami, ham, cheese, and wonder bread.

The Ring agent had obviously seen more than enough because he twisted roughly in the chair and snarled, "What the fuck is going on? Gonna make me a Subway sandwich?"

Chuck did not answer, but the smile that had only touched his lips were now spreading to his entire face. He looked like he was enjoying himself. He bobbed his head up and down while removing his jacket, and then unscrewing the bottle of Whiskey. He took a long pleasant swig. The Ring agent eyed him up and down, fear beginning to show on his face. Chuck watched with amused eyes as his prisoner wobbled back and forth in the chair, demanding freedom.

Chuck kicked up a chair and slammed the bottle of Whiskey onto the table. It startled the Ring spy into silence. Chuck snorted, enjoying the ability to command fear at a moment's notice. He said with a laugh, "Nah, the sandwich is for me. I get hungry on the job," he indicated the alcohol, "And a little thirsty too."

The Ring agent narrowed his eyes into a suspicious glare. He did not like how the man in front of him was acting so flippant.

"Who are you,kid? You look a little too young for this sort of thing?"

Chuck shrugged, "Well I was only what, twenty-seven when I was recruited?" He lifted his chin, looking contemplative. Then he stared at the window, knowing that Casey was behind it's invisible curtain. He hollered, "Hey Casey! I was twenty-seven right? It was right after my sister and brother-in-law went Kaboom, right?"

Sarah exchanged a look with Casey, who looked complacent with the situation. She, on the other hand, was deeply unsettled. Was this really Chuck? It couldn't be... There was something terribly off about him. He looked jubilant, laughing and joking, but in the depths of his eyes, something had been broken.

_Forget broken,_ Sarah corrected herself, _It's been fuckign shattered._

Had she been the one who caused this? Was she responsible for this new, tortured Chuck?

"Yeah, well if you wanted to know who I am," Chuck's pleasant voice brought Sarah to the disturbing present. He was leaning forward, grinning at the Ring spy. His arm was extended, his fingers prodding the syringe eagerly. His voice dropped, "Then i'll just have to show you!"

He jabbed the Ring agent in the neck with the syringe. The luminescent liquid emptied into his flesh as the man cried out in surprise.

"You motherfucker! What did you do?"

Chuck removed the syringe and sat back on his chair. He appeared to be satisfied. A smirk settled on his features, his eyes darted to the wall where a clock was located. He pursed his lips and counted under his breath.

"In a few seconds, the liquid will work its way into your bloodstream," he explained like it was an everyday conversation. "So it'd be the smart thing to do to tell me what's the big plan for the Ring lately? I'd love to know..."

The man was already showing signs of fatigue and pain. He was blinking his eyes rapidly and sweating harder than before. Chuck acknowledged this with an unsympathetic look.

"Yeah, yeah. It hurts doesn't it? Good, that means its working."

The Ring spy began to scream soon after the injection. Sarah nearly jumped back, cupping her hands over her mouth. Casey looked slightly upset. Chuck, however, was leaning in his chair, almost bored. He was studying his fingernails for awhile before looking back at the spy.

"You ready to tell me what i want to know?"

"Never!" The man spat.

"Whatever you say."

The torture continued and Sarah was having trouble staying quiet. Chuck was now eyeing the ingredients to make his sandwich. He looked hungry. It made Sarah feel sick to herself.

"You need to make him stop!" She hissed at Casey.

"He's not really doing anything," he replied. "I guess he's going for the psychological route this time. Usually its right down to business with him. He must be in a bad mood."

Her mouth was agape. "A bad mood?"

"He makes them suffer longer, you know how the game is, Walker."

Sarah looked at Casey, aghast. She narrowed her eyes and then approached the two-way mirror. She began pounding on the window, trying to get Chuck's attention.

"Are you an idiot?" Casey said. "He can't hear you."

"I need to get him out of here," she walked towards the exit with haste.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you."

Sarah came to a halt. She balled her hands into fists and spun around. She snapped, "And why the hell not?"

"Chuck's not exactly...balanced."

She said through clenched teeth: "I can see that."

And with that, she wrenched the door open, slamming it shut with a resounding crash.


	2. Loving Him

**Chapter 2**

Once the door had been violently shut, Sarah made her way for the interrogation room. There was a large man obstructing the entrance; his arms crossed over his chest, he stared her down with indifferent eyes.

Sarah did not have time for this, her nostrils flared with pent up anger.

"Let me in," she commanded.

The man did not move and inch. His gaze never leaving hers, he said. "It's against my orders to allow anyone who's unauthorized to enter the room during an interrogation."

Sarah's eyes narrowed, "Unauthorized? In case you haven't noticed, I work for the CIA." She reached into her jacket pocket and revealed her badge and ID. The man studied it and shrugged. "So, I'm going to tell you again, let _me _in."

"I'm sorry, Agent Walker, but Agent Bartowski personally requested that there would be no visitors during his work hours. He doesn't like distractions…"

Sarah balled up her hands into fists, stuffing away her badge in the process of not throttling the man before her. She needed to gain access into the room. It was the only way to talk to Chuck, to talk him out of this.

But the guard still wouldn't budge. Sarah was at her last nerve; she lunged forward, prepared to give this man a piece of her mind but was stopped when a pair of strong arms settled themselves on her shoulders. She struggled for leverage but found it pointless. She wasn't going anywhere.

"What's the problem here?" Casey's gruff voice asked.

The guard saluted him, "Colonel Sir, Agent Walker was asking for permission to enter the room. I told her that it was strictly prohibited because—"

The door creaked open. Sarah felt her entire body go numb; her muscles slackened in Casey's tight grip. The guard shifted his position to the side, looking over his shoulder with a new sense of nervousness in his demeanor. Sarah heard Casey grunt, but it sounded more like a sigh.

Chuck's head peaked through and he looked between the three of them and smiled. Someone else's blood was covering parts of his face, and drenching his shirt. He scratched the side of his nose and almost casually said, "He talked."

The Ring agent groaned in the background as he finally came to. The pain had subsided. Sarah watched Chuck's expression change with horror as he actually snorted at the man's expense. He stifled his laughter however, when he make direct contact with Sarah.

His eyes were unfocused and without any real emotion, hollow. But seeing her caused a flicker of something to resonate in its depths. Chuck blinked and then whatever she saw was gone. His face was a mask and he was now staring right through her.

Casey broke the awkward silence, "Good. The confession had been recorded, correct."

"Of course," was Chuck's bored reply.

"Bartowski," the Colonel said as he inspected the younger man closely. "Please tell me you didn't kill this guy. We still need him."

Chuck faked being affronted. "Me, kill that guy? Why would I do that?" His eyes darted from Casey and fell onto Sarah, who appeared aghast. He watched curiously for her reaction. "It's me you're talking about, Casey."

Sarah felt herself overcome with a shudder. She could not help but to stare into Chuck's dead eyes, searching for any emotion but finding that they were completely empty. She felt numbed and cold. This was not the man she had fallen in love with years ago; it was only a sad shell of who he once was.

God, was this all her fault? Did she bring all of this upon Chuck once she left him behind? If she would've known he was so broken, if someone just told her about Ellie and Devon….things could've been different.

_I would've come back for you, Chuck_. She tried so hard to depict this, but Chuck turned a blind eye. He acted as though she never existed; like she was a ghost of the past. It was tearing her heart to pieces to see him like this. She just wished she could reach out to him, touch him and make him see.

"Whatever," Casey remarked. He released Sarah and pointed at Chuck. "Get cleaned up and then meet back at the conference room for a debriefing. Got that?"

"Crystal clear, "Chuck said. He turned his back and let the door slide closed. Sarah heard him mumbling as he left, "Now where's my sandwich…"

* * *

About a half hour later, the newly reunited Team Bartowski sat in a circle in the renovated Castle. It was enormous, way bigger and technologically advanced than Sarah could remember. She kept herself busy while waiting for the General to appear on the flat screen by gazing at all the improvements the base had to undergo.

Casey sat beside her, reviewing the transcripts of what the Ring agent had confessed to during the interrogation. He was in deep thought, not paying any notice to the strange look Chuck was giving Sarah. He was sitting in the seat furthest from everyone; he liked the distance and Casey (sometimes Morgan) would usually abide by that. Sarah was positioned the closet to him and he was looking rather uncomfortable.

Once she had finished looking around Castle, her eyes fell back to the table, and back to Chuck. She saw the odd expression worn on his face and questioned at what point he decided to stop pretending she did not exist. And not only did he stare at her (quite obnoxiously so) but if she were to make direct eye contact, he would shy away in a nervous manner.

A brief moment later and then Beckman came over the screen from her office in DC. She looked around the table, pausing slightly when seeing that Sarah was present.

She began, "I trust Chuck got the info?"

"Yes Ma'am, the Ring spy—he sang like a canary."

Chuck was fiddling with his thumbs, ignoring the entire conversation. Sarah stared at him, bothered by his behavior. The General nodded and then noticed were Sarah's eyes were focused.

She asked, "Agent Walker, you're awfully tense. Is there something wrong?"

Sarah tapped his finger on the surface of the table in order to calm herself down. Yeah, there was something wrong. And if Beckman was going to feign ignorance just so she would admit it, then fine, she'd speak her mind.

"With all due respect, General, can you explain to me what happened to Chuck?" Her voice had an edge to it. She did not even care that Chuck was in the same room as her. He was preoccupied with staring at the floor. He was lost in his own little world.

Beckman raised a brow. "Agent Walker, I would appreciate some more respect coming from you. I was the one who had reassigned you away from Special Agent Shaw and back to Burbank."

Sarah immediately choked on her words.

"And regarding Agent Bartowski, I would think it prudent to ask him himself." She nodded to the man who still refused to include himself in the meeting. Sarah looked to him and bit her lip. "He of course, will be more than willing to inform you on his latest exploits."

The edges of Chuck's lips curled into a smirk. He must've been listening the entire time. Sarah did not really think Chuck would be so eager to tell her what had happened to him. With her abandoning him, followed by his sister and brother-in-law's murder, and now this…she could not imagine how hard it would be for him to lower his defenses again.

She hadn't gone through have of what he did and she still could not drop her guard.

Sarah must have missed the rest of the debriefing because she when she came back into reality, the flat screen was black. Casey had gathered his papers and shuffled them back into the manila folder. Chuck pushed out of his chair, not before giving her one last flat stare, and then left Castle without another word.

With Castle all to herself, Sarah cupped her head in her hands and began to cry.

* * *

It was early the next morning, and Chuck was relaxing in a Starbucks café located outside of Burbank. He was enjoying whatever drink he had in his hand—vanilla latte, was that what it was called? Anyway, he was just relieved that he could have a day off. It had been a long time since he could just rest; usually he refrained from that. Rest meant he had time to think: think about everything wrong with his little precious world, and why the hell Sarah Walker had come back into life. But he disregarded the feeling and focused on the present.

That was until he saw a familiar blond sitting in a seat in front of him.

Speaking of the devil, Sarah Walker had seemed to have just materialized into thin air. But more realistically she probably only followed him, stalked him.

Holding a cup of coffee in one hand, she approached him. She seemed nervous, her hand was even trembling. She started out by saying, "Hi, Chuck."

Narrowing his eyes, he thought indignantly, _"Hi, Chuck?"_

Hi, Chuck?" He scoffed. His blood began to boil and he was seconds from getting up and leaving. But then the rage settled; he wasn't a slave to his emotions anymore, he had to keep reminding himself of that. "Look Sarah, I don't know what or why you are here, but I think it'd be better for the both of us if you just left me alone."

"Chuck, don't say that please. I know I hurt you, and I feel so incredibly guilty, you were supposed to forget about me and move on." She explained almost breaking into tears. "If I knew that this was how things were going to end up, god I would've stayed!"

He studied her for a moment, not lost on the fact that the Sarah Walker was about to break down sobbing all because of him and her guilt. Well frankly, she deserved it; although it did nothing to prevent a sudden feeling to overwhelm him whole.

Old feelings resurfaced, telling him that Chuck Bartowski could not stand to see Sarah cry. It tugged at his heart, urging him to get up and comfort her and say that none of it was really her fault. That she was scared and so was he, and if he had gone with her in Prague—things would be different, better.

But he couldn't succumb. Instead, he rose from his chair and said. "Nice seeing you again, _Sam."_

She flinched at her real name.

"Chuck, don't…"

But it was already too late. He was gone.


	3. Breaking Her

It had been both a confusing and arduous drive home for Chuck. After making his quick escape from Sarah back at the café, he hopped into his car and sped out of the parking lot with a loud screech. His nails dug into the steering wheel as he shifted lanes, not paying attention to how fast he was driving. As the speedometer scaled upward, so did Chuck's temper. His sights were glued to the road ahead and as the blood pumped in his ears, it became increasingly difficult to control his flaring emotions.

He was losing it and he had no idea why.

_Of course I know why, _he thought angrily. He jerked the wheel with both hands and cut a car off. A horn blared in the distance but he really could care less. _It's because of her._

Sarah. She was the only person in the world who could elicit such feeling from him. Even when he trained himself to become a master of his emotions, to empty himself completely so that nothing could hurt him ever again….her reappearance did the exact opposite.

With just a wave and a nervous "Hi, Chuck," Sarah managed to throw him into an emotional tail spin. The emotions, the thoughts and feelings he kept bottled within were now demanding freedom from his once (and perhaps still) jaded heart. He felt like he was going to explode if he could not find a proper outlet in time.

Taking the next exit off the highway, Chuck decided to use all his restraint to not think about her. Thinking of her would only make matters worse. It would remind him of what she had done. It would also pay as a reminder of what he had become to recover from her absence.

* * *

"Yorrick, I'm home!"

Chuck entered his house through the front door. He kicked the door shut and locked it, turning around to be greeted with a stampede of paws heading towards him like a torpedo. The large animal barked; happily jumping up and attacking his master with a giant hug. The lovable Chocolate Labrador retriever licked his master's chin.

Chuck's mood had not abated since driving home, but with the welcoming he received by his most trusted companion, it was rather hard to not crack a smile.

Two large paws rested on either shoulder. Chuck patted the dog's head, scratching behind the ears. A tail wagged in appreciation and then dropped back down to all fours.

"I guess you missed me, huh?" He asked with a grin. Slipping off his Converse shoes as well as his jacket, Chuck looked around his house that had been nestled safely in the Los Angeles wilderness. The further it was from his old life, the better.

Yorrick tilted his head to the side; ears now perked up and tail tucked beneath his legs, the dog resumed his barking. Chuck stared with curiosity and then shifted into attentiveness. With the Intersect still in his brain, always keeping him nimble and ready to combat any threat, Chuck walked cautiously down the hall to where he'd eventually find his living room.

Whether it'd be an intruder or visitor, he did not know. The only person who actually came to his house (and was allowed to) was Morgan, who occasionally brought Alex along for his weekly visit. It was technically the middle of nowhere and Chuck did not expect to be bombarded with guests.

He personally liked it that way. The simple routine of going to work and then coming home was enough for him. It kept him busy as well as keeping him safe from further rejection and of course himself.

It was when Chuck crossed through the kitchen, which emptied into a bigger room, that his next breath held the distinct aroma that was hardly feasible to forget. It was the sweet smell of vanilla and lilacs that invaded his senses. It enrapt his mind in such a way that it rendered him into a bout of lightheadedness and nostalgia.

It took an instant for him to discern who it was.

His eyes narrowed down when he walked out of the kitchen, seeing the beautiful blonde figure pacing along his living room, gazing at all the pictures littered on the walls.

Chuck eyed her carefully before finally recovering from her sudden appearance. He sighed and asked rather calmly.

"What are you doing here, Sarah?"

She turned.

"To get through to you," was the reply.

"I told you to leave me alone."

Yorrick padded into the room, bypassing Chuck and making a beeline directly for Sarah. His tail thumped on the ground while he sniffed at her leg. Chuck raised a surprised brow; usually Yorrick was not so kind to the people he did not know.

"Yorrick seems to like you," he noticed.

Sarah bent down to pet the dog's brown coat. She smiled when Yorrick nudged the side of her face and planted a slobbery kiss on her cheek. Chuck's face twisted into an unreadable expression. It was a mix of confusion and uneasiness.

Lifting her head to meet his gaze, she asked. "If you say you're as empty as you think you are, Chuck, then why do you even bother with a dog?"

He looked away from her and crossed his arms defensively. "Dogs are loyal, more so than anybody I've come across." He mumbled. "I found him outside of the Buy More a few years back as a puppy in a card-box he was cold and hungry, thought it'd help me get over things." He had forgotten to add, _to get over you._

And then still refusing to look at her, he added. "He's all that I really have left and he knows what it's like to be abandoned…"

Sarah watched the pained expression on Chuck's features expand and she straightened back up to full height. She took a tentative step forward, wishing to reach a hand out for him, but not being able to summon the will or courage.

Instead, she told him. "I'm not leaving. I've made many mistakes in my life and the worst one was leaving you, Chuck. I won't do it again because I know what it's like to be deserted with no one left to turn to. It hurts, I know, believe me." Her voice cracked. "So I'm telling you now: I won't be leaving you until I find _my _Chuck again, the one _I_ left behind."

Chuck studied her briefly with deep brooding eyes. They were unblinkingly and Sarah felt as though she were being X-rayed by though muddy brown orbs. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Sarah took a deep breath and held it as if it were her last.

Finally, he spoke. It was an order. "Yorrick go upstairs."

The dog offered one last passing glance Sarah's way before whimpering at his master's tone of voice and then padding to the spiral staircase back at the entrance of the house. Chuck and Sarah were now alone, really for the first time since before she left those years ago.

There were no distractions. There was no reason to hold anything back. It was just the two of them.

Chuck was the first to speak. His arms dropped to his sides and he began by saying, "I didn't reject you, you know."

"What?" Sarah said, perplexed.

"I did not reject you in Prague," he elaborated. Sarah's heart thumped staccatos in her chest. "I always wanted a relationship with you but you encouraged me to become the best and reach my full potential. I was a coward to have never told you this before, and probably should have if I would've known it could have made you stay."

He paused for a reaction. Sarah's eyes went downcast and she was unable to reply. He nodded to himself and then finished lowly.

"If I had known things were going to turn out like this I would've jumped on that train with you and never looked back. But what is done is done…"

She raised her head to him, tears brimming in her blue eyes. All the guilt and shame, all the painful memories she had spent reliving and yearning for had washed over her like a tidal wave.

Sarah felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she spoke, "Chuck. I'm so sorry….for everything. Please forgive me."

It was the first time she had seen Chuck look so conflicted. She could tell that his mind of his was working overdrive. It made him seem exhausted and worn down.

"Stop apologizing, Sarah." His voice was emotionless. "It's too late."

"Chuck, please don't do this!" She begged.

"Leave me alone."

Her sadness and regret had all been for naught. Seeing Chuck so cold and uncaring about her admittance caused for her emotions to evolve from pitying to anger. She would not let him get his way this time. Chuck was going to listen to her. She was going to make things right again.

So she retorted defiantly, "No."

His own anger showed in the flicker of his eyes. "I said leave, right now! You're trespassing in case you don't know; I can only guess how you found my place. The least you could've done was respect my privacy by not coming here at all!"

But she made her away across the living room until she was standing toe-to-toe with him. Her eyes boring into his, she cut him off before he could continue.

"—No, and I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. I am not leaving."

He scowled, ready to continue his tirade. He was going to throw her out of his house himself if he had to. Her time there was spent. It was over. It just hurt too much to bear. She needed to go. She _had _to go.

He did not want to change his mind.

"Sarah—" he warned. But of course, he was met with something entirely unexpected. She silenced him with a kiss. He went into a state of shock; not knowing how to proceed. He missed the feeling of her lips on his, and yet they felt so foreign like they weren't ever meant to be for him.

Chuck broke the kiss and pulled away. He wiped his mouth and felt a strange sensation spread throughout his body. Unable to define it, caused him to fear it. So he looked at Sarah, and saw her wounded expression and said, "No."

He seriously thought that he had convinced her to give up. Maybe she would go away, perhaps somewhere far, preferably somewhere in Europe again. That would be good. It would be a relief. Then he could go back to work with a clear conscious, do his job perfectly and not worry and not feel so compromised by his emotions.

_Just go away, Sarah. I don't love you anymore, I—I can't love you anymore. It's just too hard. Go before it hurts again. Go before—_

But Sarah was undeterred, not to mention determined to win him back. She disregarded every form of refusal he threw at her. Whether it'd be a simple, "No," or that tormented look in his once warm brown eyes, she did not care.

Sarah grabbed him by the back of the head and tried it again, only this time with more force, more passion than before. She kissed him hard on the lips, startling him into immobility. He was paralyzed with fright, finding he had no choice but to kiss back because only god knew how long she would be keeping this up.

Sarah could be extremely persistent when she wanted to.

Now was one of those times, but Chuck wouldn't let her win so easily. He snaked his arms around her body and kissed her hungrily until her back smacked into a wall. He would be in control,

"Chuck…" she said in a breathy whisper.

He smirked against her neck. His large hands had pinned her against the wall and there wouldn't be any escape. She was the one who refused to leave; so she would have to deal with the consequences.

When he lifted her into the air and her legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, he carried her over to the couch. She fell onto her back and before she could recover, he was already on her, that same look of lust and hunger in his eyes.

General Beckman always praised Chuck on his ability to make his victims talk. He used various tricks to get them to spill their guts. From psychologically warfare, to physical suffering, he was able to break anyone regardless of who they were.

Looking down at Sarah, who was writhing under his touch, he remembered that she would be his latest victim. He leaned in for another tantalizing kiss and she moaned aloud.

As everyone in the spy business knew: Everyone talks and everyone gets broken down eventually.

His sole purpose for tonight was to break Sarah Walker.

Make her weak and helpless. So she would know how it feels to be out of control. And if she were to survive this torment, and still love him as she claimed still to believe, then he would let it be.

He could not pass up a once in a lifetime chance like this.

This was a new form of torture he had yet to explore.

He silently wondered how loud he could make her scream.

* * *

It was early next morning when there came a knock at the front door. Casey was waiting impatiently on the other side, wondering what was taking Bartowski so long. Usually the kid was very punctual and on time with practically everything these days. Just to be sure, he checked under the mat for a spare key, which he found with ease.

He carefully turned the knob and was let in. Yorrick was already at the door, scratching at the frame and then backed away once Casey entered. He looked at the chocolate lab as it sat down on its hind legs and barked.

"Do you know where your pathetic excuse for a master is?" he grunted irritably.

Yorrick's tongue flapped out of his mouth and gave Casey a blank look. Casey massaged the bridge of his nose before proceeding, "Never mind, what was I thinking…talking to a mutt."

The dog surprised the Colonel by springing to its feet and trotting towards the living room. It barked encouragingly. Casey raised an eye brow, clearly impressed.

"Well I'll be damned."

He followed the dog to the living room, stopping when he saw that Chuck was sitting in his recliner with only his boxers on. He leaned back into his chair while reading some gamer magazine.

What shocked the large man the most by far was who laying on the couch adjacent to Chuck. Sarah was snuggled up into the sofa, a white sheet covering her naked body. He felt the urge to roll his eyes and make a snide remark but kept to himself.

He asked, "What's Walker doing here?"

Chuck promptly closed the magazine and tossed it to the coffee table in front of him. Acknowledging Casey's presence, he merely glanced over to the couch where Sarah was sleeping peacefully.

"Oh, she came over last night," he spoke like he was discussing the weather. "She wanted to talk or something…I don't think she had much to say honestly."

Casey's eyes widened but he was there for a reason. It was not to judge Bartowski or his tumultuous relationship with Walker.

He changed the subject quickly. "If you're wondering why I'm here, it's because I have some news."

Chuck looked over his shoulder, to face Casey. "Good or bad? Do I have another job already?"

Casey sighed and anticipated for the younger man's reaction. He braced himself. "We found _him, _Chuck."

Something clicked in Chuck's brain and he made his voice dangerously low. "You found the Ring agent who ordered my death." He was suddenly seething, barely able to contain himself. "Call Beckman and tell her to get someone to prep my room. I want to go all out this time, I need—the laser cutter and the Hades Elixir."

He removed himself from the recliner and fire burned in the depths of his eyes. They were bright and focused. Casey hadn't seen such energy in him in years. It was both welcoming and frightening to witness.

"I want this bastard to suffer for everything he's done," Chuck continued. Bending over to where his clothes had made a pile on the floor, he grabbed his shirt and tossed it over his head. He added, "Who is this guy anyway? I need to know his name."

Casey saw the look in Chuck's face. He knew once he told the truth that the kid would stop at nothing to extract his revenge. Forget about interrogating, Chuck would kill this man. Casey tended to not disagree on this controversial subject. He always thought that an eye-for-an-eye was a form of justice. But coming from someone who had watched Chuck since the beginning, he had watched him change into a monster. He was barely a human being. Just a mindless, broken animal that thirsted for the next assignment, the next kill.

When Chuck was in the zone, he wouldn't be stopped. That kid lost his mind a long time ago and his next victim should be praying for mercy.

"So, who is it?" He heard Chuck repeat. All of his anger subsided but now it sounded small and slightly confused.

"It is Daniel Shaw, Chuck."

Chuck went completely still. He looked at Casey for confirmation. He could hardly breathe. Everything that he had suffered, everything that he had lost….it was all Shaw's fault. It was so simple, it made perfect sense.

"Are you sure?" He asked, composed.

Casey nodded in affirmation. "Yeah…he was the one who ordered you to be killed, but got Ellie and Devon killed in the process. He was a Ring turncoat all along; probably manipulated Sarah to leave so that he could leave you as a vulnerable target. I wouldn't put it passed him."

Through this explanation, Chuck's mind was reeling. His eyes dilated for a second and when everything came back into focus, his lips curled into a smile. It was a normal, disarming smile. It was something Chuck never did anymore.

This worried Casey.

"Well then," he said in a cheerful tone. "Let's get going then, huh? We have no time to waste."

"What about Sleeping Beauty over there?" Casey inquired.

Chuck looked at Sarah and pursed his lips in contemplation. He then used his eyes to find where Yorrick went. The dog was curled up in a ball below the couch where Sarah slept.

He commanded, "Yorrick, watch Sarah."

The dog cracked its eyes open as a sign of understanding. Chuck picked up his jeans and put them on while hopping towards the door. Casey looked on, perturbed at the sudden eagerness coming from Chuck. He shrugged it off however and the two left the house.

When the door slammed shut, Sarah's eyes snapped open.

She had heard it all.


	4. The Murderer

**AN:** I give 60% of credit to mah co-writer ShinyJayne19 for giving this life while I built it.

**Chapter 4**

Chuck was fidgeting the whole drive to Castle. He could not sit still. For the life of him he had never felt such apprehension course through his veins. His heart was hammering in his chest. All of his senses were on high alert; his eyes darted back and forth from the passenger's window, to Casey, who was staying focused on the road.

He fiddled with the radio, switching the stations with no real purpose. He needed to find a way to calm down. Not satisfied with any of the choices, Chuck was about to change the station but had his hand smacked away from the dial.

His hand fell into his lap and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Touch the dial one more time," Casey growled. "And I'll make sure you don't get to Castle in one piece."

Chuck shot him a dark look. "I'd like to see you try it," he challenged.

They rolled up to a red light and stopped. Casey sighed and turned to face Chuck. The younger man was on edge. His whole body had visibly tensed and the look in his eyes told Casey that he was restless and tired of waiting.

"I do not see why you're so worked up, just relax and we'll be there soon."

The light turned green. The car began to move forward, but Chuck remained staring at Casey when he reverted back to driving. He was biting his lip, enough to draw blood. He stayed silent when he figured there was nothing more to discuss.

He had to relax.

He breathed and closed his eyes.

How could he relax when the man who had destroyed his life was in Castle, waiting to suffer for all that he had done? Just that alone set his teeth on edge. The darkness clouding his mind was infectious as well as impenetrable. It poisoned him with twisted thoughts and spread throughout his body like a ravenous infection.

He had it in his head that he would make Daniel Shaw hurt. He would hurt like he had. It would be a slow burn; agonizing and eternal. He would not let this chance slip through his fingers.

Chuck rested his head against the car window.

Revenge for those he lost was the only thing that kept him going. It was now time to make it count.

* * *

Inside of Castle, Casey watched Chuck from the corner of his eye. He was changing into a new set of clothes, ones he did not mind getting stained with blood or any other bodily fluid. He tossed on his brown apron that held pockets for his various tools. When he put on his gloves, Casey had enough of the silence.

"Are you sure about this?"

Chuck did not look at him, "Is that even a question?"

"Beckman has faith you won't push Shaw too far," the bigger man explained. "But I know you better than that."

His head down, Chuck smiled. "You think I am going to kill him." He said.

"I hope you prove me wrong."

"What happened to you, Casey? I thought you loved dealing out justice to those who deserved it."

Casey stiffened. "I do, but getting personal revenge won't solve anything. It won't bring Ellie or Devon back, and it sure as hell won't turn back the clock for you. If Shaw is alive, we can get information out of him, the kind of info that could end up saving thousands of lives—"

"You're right," Chuck cut him off. His voice was cold, distant. "It won't bring anyone back, and it won't give me a second chance. But it will make me feel better."

There was no way of convincing Chuck otherwise. Casey saw this and sighed, giving up.

"The room is prepped and ready to go," he said. "I hope that this is worth it in the end."

Chuck nodded and left the room. His mind was racing. He wondered what Sarah would think of all of this? Then he blinked, confused to why he cared about her opinion. His moral compass had been damaged a long time ago, back when the Intersect started causing him problems. Sarah was not there to comfort him through those trying times. He was alone.

He looked down at his wrist and saw that his watch—the Governor, was still there. It was keeping him from falling further into the dark. He touched it with reverence, the last gift he received from anyone. Orion would not talk to his son once he saw what had become of him.

No one could possibly love a monster.

Then his mind traveled back to Sarah.

How could she?

* * *

Daniel Shaw was strapped to a metallic chair, looking rather bored. He was not worried about this interrogation session. He was able to endure through the worst torture imaginable. His breathing was soft and even; his brain focused on bracing himself from whatever pain came his way.

He was ready for whatever the CIA was going to throw at him. Shaw hoped that Sarah had come to watch. In fact, he wanted all of Team Bartowski to be present. Just so he could show them that they had all been manipulated, and that they lost.

If he was lucky, maybe Chuck Bartowski would be there. The kid had no clue. He was the easiest to break. He wondered what had become of the Intersect.

The door of the interrogation room creaked open. Shaw had his back facing the door but his ears perked up in anticipation. His heart rate spiked but he looked calm on the outside. Whoever had been assigned to him was sure taking his/her time. He could hear the rapid breathing. Then there were a few several heavy footsteps making their way to where he was sitting.

"Taking your sweet time," Shaw sneered. "Or is this some new form of torture? Fear of anticipation."

The breathing stopped. A hand made a clenched fist and trembled. Shaw still could not see who it was but rolled his eyes nonetheless.

"You're quite the silent type."

"No, not really," the voice uttered casually. "I'm just thinking."

Shaw froze in his seat. He recognized the familiar voice. He just did not want to believe it was true.

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" He asked.

"I work here, silly." The younger man responded with an overly cheerful attitude.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Chuck walked up to the chair so Shaw could get a better look at him. He was dressed in the appropriate interrogation attire. His eyes wavered unexpectedly when Chuck tilted his head, a smile growing on his face.

He waved at Shaw. "It's so nice to see you again."

"What is this?" Shaw barked suddenly. He struggled in his chair but could not move an inch. Chuck raised an amused brow when he watched in silence. "This must be some kind of joke. They would never let you in here willingly! You can't even hurt a fly let alone make me talk!"

"I would agree with you if I haven't already been offered this job," Chuck said with a shrug, "and accepted it. So it's not a joke on you Shaw, scout's honor. And about the whole, "I can't hurt a fly," shtick, well I'm calling bullshit on that."

Shaw looked at Chuck with resentful eyes. He bit back the urge to yell at him and this only brought the smile Chuck wore into a full-blown grin. He was clearly enjoying this.

"So you're the one who's been torturing all of the captured Ring agents into spilling information."

Chuck nodded, "And you're the one who ordered my death and got my sister and her husband killed by mistake. What a coincidence that you just happen to be sitting in this chair today."

"This has been your plan all along," Shaw snarled. "Find the person who ruined your precious little life, and then what? Torture them to death?"

"It seems a little extreme when you put it that way," Chuck responded. He was over by the flat top table, flipping open the metal latches of the brief case. He examined all of the tools with earnest, sliding his fingers over each individual item. He stopped on a tiny silver pen. He picked it up and then presented it in front of Shaw. "Do you know what this is?"

Shaw kept his mouth firmly shut. He would not talk.

"Silent treatment, I get it." He pretended to be insulted. "But in any rate, this is a laser cutter. It's not strong enough to cut through bone, at least not right away. But it made me think of you the two days I spent constructing it."

Shaw studied the tip of the pen. It was dangerously sharp. Sweat began to accumulate above his brow but he would not let Chuck have the satisfaction. Chuck noticed his hardening expression and his cheerfulness façade was dropped.

"Let's get started then," he said with no emotion.

* * *

Sarah arrived twenty minutes later. She had sprinted through the Orange Orange and into the freezer that took her down to Castle. She was still wearing what she had worn the day before; with no make-up and her hair completely in tangles, she had a frazzled look about her. Even so, she still pushed on into the deeper chambers of the secret base.

She came to a slow stop when confronted with the room she had been searching for. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went inside. Standing there mute was Casey. His face was grim and unreadable.

"He already started, didn't he?" She asked. By the look Casey was giving her she knew she was correct in her assumption. "What has he gotten out of Daniel?"

Casey whipped his head around to look at Sarah with surprise. She must've been awake the entire time he had told Chuck the news of his would-be-murderer. "Everything we did not already know." He said and shot daggers through the two-way mirror to the Ring traitor. "He was the reason for Ellie and Devon's murder. He had turned to get revenge on the CIA for his wife's death."

Sarah's guilt had indefinitely deepened. She had run off with the man responsible for the deaths of two people she had greatly admired and cared for. He had manipulated her into leaving Chuck, saying that as the Intersect, he did not need her presence and would be better off solo. It crushed her to hear this. It crushed her even more to know that it was all a lie.

"That son of a bitch," she muttered. Then she asked, "Do you think we'll learn his motivation for targeting Chuck specifically?"

Casey replied, "We might, if Chuck doesn't kill him first."

"He's going to kill him?" Sarah shouted, aghast. "He can't do that, why did you let him go in there!"

"Shaw is a traitor to our country and got innocent people killed. I want him to know what he did would have consequences. Chuck is the perfect person to deliver that message."

Sarah felt her head spinning. "You do not want Chuck to kill him. I can see it in your face, John."

"It's too late to do anything now," he said gruffly.

"No, it's never too late."

* * *

Shaw groaned as the laser cutter ran up his arm. It tore into his flesh and blood spilled from the new wounds. His head dropped against his chest once the pain subsided. He gasped for air. Chuck glared at him with hateful eyes.

"I'm not going to stop asking until I get the answer I want. Why did you try and kill me?"

Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor, he lifted his head and stared at Chuck.

"After your Red Test, Sarah was a mess. All she could talk about was you and how you lost your innocence; worried how you'd become a cold heartless spy and she'd lose you forever." He shook his head in disbelief. "She then told me about her Red Test. It got me curious so I looked deeper into her file and found nothing."

"So I was approached by a Ring Director, and I would make a deal with him so that I could learn the truth in exchange for the blue prints for a Cipher to construct a new Intersect. He told me that Sarah Walker's mark was named Evelyn Shaw—my wife. She _killed _my wife!"

Chuck's hand was shaking. He dropped the laser cutter to the floor. He did not notice it leave his hands because his full attention was still occupied with Shaw and his story.

"My plan from then on was to make sure Sarah would suffer for what she had done to me. I convinced her to come to Europe with me, leaving you alone and helpless. I wanted you isolated. I wanted you to feel betrayed, to hate her as much as I did. And then, I was going to have you killed for payback for Sarah murdering my Eve."

"But you failed," Chuck whispered. Shaw looked up at him. "You took the closest thing to a real family away from me."

"It was collateral damage, Chuck."

"But she was pregnant!" Chuck roared with anger. "My sister was going to be a mother! The greatest fucking mother in the world! You took three lives that day. How could you not feel any guilt for what you've done? Why don't you care?"

Shaw did not respond. But a tiny smirk stretched over his features. Upon seeing this Chuck's face was wiped clean. He looked at the man sitting in the chair and saw nothing behind his dead eyes. Shaw reminded him of himself. He was an empty vessel alive only to feed its need for revenge. Realizing that this could be him, Chuck lost his grip on reality.

He lost it hard.

Grabbing Shaw by his shirt with both hands, Chuck pulled him forward. Shaw gave him a bloody smile and then laughed.

"Even now you still can't control your emotions, Chuck."

Chuck's grip on the shirt weakened. He swallowed thickly before taking a step backwards. Shaw continued to laugh under his breath.

"I—I'm in perfect control," he said.

Shaw smirked and said, "The last time you said that you were wrong. If you were in control of your life Sarah wouldn't have left you and you're family would still be alive—"

Chuck threw a right hook to Shaw's face, effectively shutting him up. He heard a loud crunching noise like the sound of bones breaking. Chuck retracted his closed fist. His knuckles drenched in blood. Tears descended from his eyes as his emotions were let loose from within.

He was in way over his head. His back hunched forward, he was panting with extreme difficulty. He wiped the sweat and blood off of his face.

He stared at Shaw and said breathlessly. "I did nothing wrong. It was not my fault."

"Denial does not suit you, Chuck." teased Shaw with a wince.

Chuck kicked the chair and it fell backwards. Shaw's head collided with the ground and he howled in pain. Chuck stood at him with a malicious glint in his eyes. Shaw did not know what to make of it. He also did not manage to see that Chuck was reaching a hand behind him for a long knife that had been resting on the table top. His fingers prodded the hilt in eager anticipation.

He thought before grabbing the blade, _if someone doesn't get in here and stop me now I swear I will kill him._

* * *

Sarah looked through the two-way mirror with tears trickling down her face. She was rooted to the floor unable to move. She had heard Shaw's confession in its entirety. So many things flooded through her mind. She was the one who killed Daniel's wife. She was only a pawn in his plan to isolate Chuck and have him suffer alone as Shaw did when Evelyn died.

He wanted vengeance and almost obtained it.

Watching the two men in the other room she could feel her heart ache. She saw Chuck deliver a punch after being goaded by Shaw. She winced when she saw the viciousness resonate in his brown eyes. There was such wild anger there.

She needed to stop him from going too far.

"Casey, he's going to do it." She begged him to reconsider, "Please, we need to stop this."

From the corner of her eye she saw Chuck's hand going for a knife. He held it in his hand and was prepared to use it against Shaw. He appeared to be waiting until his boiling point was reached.

"Shit, he has a knife," she cursed aloud.

She did not wait for Casey's permission to intervene. Sarah dashed out of the room and ran for the interrogation door. The same guard from yesterday stood there, giving her the same no-business look.

"Get the hell out of my way," and she delivered a swift kick to his gut followed by an elbow to the back of his head. The guard collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Pumped with adrenaline, Sarah wrenched open the door and pushed it open. She had to stop Chuck at any cost. She could not let him fall deeper into this hole he found himself in. Chuck needed help.

Chuck needed her.

Sarah drew her gun right at the same moment Chuck initiated his attack. She fired a shot into the room; the bullet ricocheted and echoed with a loud bang. Chuck was stalled into silence. He was on his knees with one arm raised above his head, the knife clutched between his fingers.

"Don't do it, Chuck!" She warned.

His arm shook but did not fall. He stared at her at first with anger but then it melted into complete helplessness.

"Sarah, I have to." He said and his voice broke. "He killed Ellie! He took you away from me!"

"But this is what he wants. Don't let him win again. Chuck, please, Ellie would not want this…and I don't either."

The knife wobbled in his hand. He looked hesitant.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you again because I knew that there was still some good left in you. Prove me right, Chuck."

Shaw had his eyes closed in acceptance. He waited flat on his back, still tied to the chair, for death to overcome him. Chuck stared at him and then to Sarah. His resolve weakened and he felt as though he was beginning to waste away. The high he lived on for so long dissipated; he was no longer drowning with the compulsive urges.

Chuck lowered his arm and then dropped the knife to the floor. He brought his hands up to his face and studied them in shame. Sarah watched his breakdown with tears of relief. He had finally beaten Shaw.

She took a tentative step in his direction, but kept her gun level.

"Chuck…?"

His entire body was shaking. He raised his chin to her and his face was soaked with tears. He took his time when pushing up to his feet. Finally seeing that the situation had been diffused, Sarah dropped her gun. She approached Chuck.

She came to him and threw her arms around his neck, holding him in a longing embrace. He leaned into her, his eyes unblinking. She petted his hair gently.

"Let me go," he murmured against her neck.

Sarah blinked in surprise. She did what she was told and let Chuck go. He backed away from her slowly.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked. "Please talk to me"

Covered in blood, he gave her the most heartbreaking expression she had seen. It took her breath away.

"I need to go…"

"Go?" She repeated. Chuck pushed passed her, heading for the door. She spun on her heel as she watched him leave. "Go where?"

He stripped off his gloves and threw them to the ground as well as his apron. His white shirt underneath was painted crimson as well as most of his exposed flesh. His back was to her and he never turned to answer her. He exited the room, leaving a very confused and hurt Sarah behind.

"I knew he was always the same weak spineless idiot he was three years ago," Shaw snickered.

Sarah stared down at Shaw. There was no hesitance in her demeanor when she reared back her leg and kicked him in the back of the skull knocking him out cold. She preceded then to spit in his face for good measure.

"Go to hell, Shaw."

And then she looked through the two-way mirror, to where hopefully Casey was watching.

She scowled and said, "I hope you got all of that."

She turned for the exit, her mind solely on finding Chuck.


	5. He is Possessed

**Warning:** Chuck gets violent with Sarah but don't worry, its the intersect not him.

It was like sinking into an old, recurring nightmare; for an instant Chuck was back to staring at his apartment while it burst into flames, unable to do anything but watch as his entire life turned to ash. But in reality he was running as fast as he could with eyes firmly shut, and without purpose. He was breathing hard, still saying, "I need to go…

_I need to go anywhere but I can't stay here…" _even though he was far away from Sarah and she could not hear him.

After a minute or so he realized that he was out of Castle and now in the middle of a congested boardwalk of the Burbank Plaza. He spun around in his confusion to see the many shoppers pushing passed him hurriedly; they were dressed in coats and some were holding umbrellas. Chuck lifted his head towards the sky and felt the chill of the air as well as a drop of rain plop between his bewildered eyes.

He blinked and wiped the wetness from his face. Shaw's blood began to drip from his skin and trickled down his arms like scarlet ribbons. It had only begun to sprinkle but it was enough moister to pool the blood at his feet. Chuck stood there, frozen. He looked down at his hands like he was in a daze. The blood was seeping out of his palms, washing them clean.

The storm rumbled and his heart skipped a beat.

It brought him out of his trance. Chuck looked all around him to find that several eyes were resting upon him. Some were curious while others were fearful. It made a surge of nervousness spike through Chuck's chest. People were whispering to one another. Thunder roared; Chuck felt like he could not breathe.

He needed to get out of there.

He had to leave before someone got the wrong idea—well the _right _idea and alerted the police. _I don't want to leave another body count,_Chuck thought with dread. _I don't…want to…_

Fingers arbitrarily inched for his back pocket, but Chuck forced himself to stop. No. He could not do this here. He could not just harm these innocent people because they were staring. But his hand started to tremble and he felt the powerful urge rise up in him like bile.

He shut his eyes and begged for it to stop.

"Chuck," a voice called to him. "Are you alright?"

A streak of lightning illuminated the sky with electric blue. Chuck felt his knees buckle on their own accord. The people surrounding him scattered for refuge from the rain.

The voice spoke again but this time he could not hear it. The storm was deafening; he felt like he was drowning in it.

Invisible hands then rested on his shoulders and began to pull him up off from the ground. Chuck did not struggle as he was set back onto his feet. When he opened his eyes they were blinded by the downpour.

The hands moved off his shoulders and settled onto his cheeks, caressing them softly.

"Chuck, can you hear me? Please say something."

He could not say a word.

"I'm going to take you back inside, ok?" she yelled aloud. "You're soaking wet!"

Chuck looked at Sarah with at first with a puzzled expression. Then realization flickered in his brown eyes and he was suddenly overcome with a flash. He reached a hand behind his back and in one swift motion, drew the switchblade; grabbed Sarah by her scalp and dragged her back into a wall. Chuck held the knife against her throat and pressed it into her skin. Blood dribbled from the small cut down to her chest until it was washed away by the rain.

Sarah was unable to fight back. Chuck had been unexpected and quick, terrifyingly so. She felt the sting of the blade dig deeper into her wound.

She pleaded between clenched teeth, "C-Chuck, stop-p it!"

No response. Chuck's right hand remained deathly still and he was glaring at her with wild eyes almost possessed. As Sarah was going to brace herself for the inevitable, she was surprised to find that Chuck was lessening the knife's pressure against her neck until it was a safe distance away.

Chuck let go of her hair and took a clumsy step backwards. Upon her release, Sarah fell into a bout of coughs. She then raised he head to Chuck and looked at him with apprehension sprawled over her face. He looked like a man sinking into a terrible migraine.

"Chuck?" Sarah asked unsurely.

Chuck closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, Sarah observed a sheen in them she thought was probably tears. The look of confusion was back on his face, and when the thunder cracked overhead again, he cringed a little.

"I'm sorry," he began to say, but he looked more than sorry; he looked dismayed. Sarah suddenly found herself wondering how much she trusted that expression, and if Chuck had the slightest idea that he almost slit her throat. "I'm so sorry, but I—I can't go back there. _I can't._"

"I won't let you wander by yourself out in this storm! Besides, we need to talk out what happened back there—"

Another flash of lightning exploded above the plaza. The thunder which followed was almost deafening.

Chuck yelled above the storm, "You saw what happened! There's nothing else left to explain!"

"Why did you run then?"

He looked up at the dark convoluted sky and then back to Sarah. "The same reason why you ran," he said.

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it again, looking more devastated than ever. The reason why he was running was because, like herself, he could not take it anymore. He was coming undone before her; all he wanted was a way out.

She saw the pain resonate in the depths of his eyes. They were muddled with raw emotion that he had been repressing since her departure. He was unraveling from the seams. He was bear and vulnerable for the first time in a long time and it was scaring him.

"Running away doesn't solve anything," she told him with a strained voice. "It only makes things worse."

"It cannot get any worse."

There was no convincing him. Chuck was looking resolute with his decision, no matter how misguided it was. She was afraid to defy him in all honesty. One misstep and her life could end with one fatal slash to her throat.

It did not take a genius to figure out that Chuck Bartowski had lost his mind.

"Then leave," she said.

Chuck gave her a disbelieving look. He shoved the blade back to where it belonged and made a tentative step backwards. His eyes still fastened on her with suspicion.

"Don't follow me."

"Chuck…"

"I said, don't follow me. I mean it."

"I…" She looked anguished. "Fine—fine, I won't follow you. Just be safe Chuck, please. Don't do anything rash—"

"Does it even matter? I doubt you would even care."

"Chuck, no—please—I care, I swear I've never stopped caring about you!"

He gave her one more last long look before turning his back on her and disappearing into the storm. Sarah stood quite still and silent. She could not believe he actually left her. When she had just convinced herself that he still had feeling for her…he was gone.

Sarah felt dazed. This must've been what Chuck felt like when she left him.

Her body soaked to the bone she walked aimlessly back into the Orange Orange and then further into Castle. Casey was sitting comfortably in his chair, reviewing another folder brimming with highly classified files. He heard her enter the base and turned his head.

"Did you find him?" He asked.

She only stared at him, her sopping hair plastered to her face.

"He's gone."

She threw herself into one of the chairs; her face buried in her arms, and started to cry.

Casey watched his former partner's breakdown in silence. He got up from the chair and walked out of the conference room. He came back seconds later with a dry towel and then draped it over Sarah. Then he returned back to his chair finding it incredibly difficult to study the briefings while listening to the pounding of the rain.

* * *

The storm had finally ended several agonizingly long hours later. The sun was beginning its descent: The pure colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering.

Chuck sat down on the sandy beach and took a deep breath of the salty air. Simply to be alive to watch the sun sink into the sparkling mass of water should've been one of the most satisfying things on earth, yet he could not appreciate it: any sort of enjoyment had been dulled by his inability to kill Daniel Shaw. He looked out to the pink tinged horizon; waves crashed and receded into the tide.

Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist the physical pain. He had spilled others blood more times than he could count; he had compromised himself to the point of disgust; this life he was now leading had already given him permanent scars, but never, until this moment, had he felt so hopelessly weakened, defenseless, and exposed, as though he had been stripped away of all his self-control.

He knew exactly what Casey would say if he expressed any of this: Fix it or you're going back to the shrink for another psychiatric analysis. But he was wrong; the case of correcting his sanity was different now. He was not going insane.

_Because I'm already a certifiable nut case, _He admitted with bitterness.

Chuck grabbed a handful of sand and watched it seep out between his fingers. He shook his hand, planting it back in the grainy earth and then heaved a sigh.

He continued to watch with stoic eyes as the sun disappeared behind the sea swept horizon. The cool breeze of a summer's eve rushed through his wet curls, the smell of salty air passing through his nostrils.

Chuck really wished he could relish this brief moment of freedom. But he knew it was only a matter of time before Big Brother found him again. He traced a circle in the sand absentmindedly; pondering any means of a lasting escape.

He was tired of being the government's puppet. The only incentive for remaining with the CIA after Ellie had passed was to seek revenge for her untimely death. Chuck promised himself that once he caught the person who had done this and watched as the light left their eyes, he'd quit. But like with anything, he was dragged deeper into the rabbit hole. He became obsessed with only vengeance on his mind. It broke him down until he lived and breathed the next mark. Knowing now that it had been Shaw all along, the pain only numbed him further.

_He was exactly like me, _Chuck supposed wearily. _Someone he truly cared for was murdered and he went out looking for justice. But he got carried away and hurt others in the process._

Such was life. The vicious circle of fate continued to spin and Chuck was due for his brand of justice himself. When Sarah prevented him from killing Shaw, it had shattered everything he had worked for. Now he had nothing. He was broken and alone. He had no one.

Chuck punched the sand to quell his rising temper. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he sniffed back some tears. He did not know what to do now. Would he try to run for real? But where would he go? His dad would not give him the time of day so that was a bust. He literally had alienated all those left he cared for. Then he thought of Sarah, Prague and what could've been.

But then shook his head in stupidity and renounced the idea.

"I burned that bridge the moment I threatened her with a knife," he mumbled unhappily.

He laid down flat on his back and then gazed at the sky which was closing in on twilight. Putting his arms around the back of his head he began to hum. He concentrated on the various colors that washed the heavens. It all seemed so majestic and oddly soothing.

He began to count the stars glimmering above him, wishing that he'll be ok.

* * *

The sound of footsteps woke him from his short, albeit much needed nap. His eyes were still shut while his ears perked up at the noise. He had a foreboding feeling in the pit of his gut. It had to be some of Beckman's men. How else would they've found him?

Chuck stayed relaxed and still. It was not until a shadow obstructed what remained of the sun in his path that he finally cracked one eye in curiosity.

He was met with a relieved smile that reached up to a pair of beautiful sapphire eyes.

"I thought you would be a lot cleverer with your hiding places."

He shot back, "I thought I told you not to follow me"

Sarah laughed and took a seat beside him in the sand.

"I didn't," She confessed after a small pause.

Chuck looked at her confusedly but still would not get up.

Continuing, she said. "But I did give you a five hour head start. You didn't get very far."

He snorted and pushed himself to a sitting position. She turned to him expectantly.

"How did you find me?" He asked.

"A little while after you left, Casey pulled up the 24 hour security feeds and pin pointed the time you left," Sarah began and averted her eyes. "We saw that you had broken into a car to hot wire it before leaving…"

Chuck's face became flustered with embarrassment. He had forgotten about Castle having the security feeds. He inwardly groaned at his foolishness.

Sarah observed his humiliated expression and went on, "But I was able to find the license plate number and then set a perimeter for where you could've gone. Once I saw you were going west on the 101 Highway, well…it was a no brainer really."

"For awhile now I've been totally overlooking the fact that you're still a spy," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's always comforting," Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

"How did you get here exactly?" Chuck began a little nervously. His eyes shifted to Sarah, whose were glinting mischievously. "I mean I sorta…"

"You can say it, Chuck." She said dryly. "You slashed my tires."

He looked away quickly, "I didn't want you to follow me remember?"

Her face softened and she settled a hand on the crook of his neck.

"I know, and I'm sorry for disrespecting your wishes but I was scared for you Chuck."

Chuck turned back to her with a questioning look, "Why would you be scared for me?"

"Believe it or not, people still care about whether you live or die."

"If you cared about me at all you wouldn't have left me no matter what Shaw did or made you think." He said in a hurt voice.

Sarah nodded with difficulty. Chuck followed her eyes as they began to water. He felt a foreign pang in his chest, like his heart was twisting into knots. He began to feel uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. He really did not like making Sarah cry.

He sighed and threw her a bone, "But at least…you came back."

"It's not good enough. I completely let you down, Chuck!"

His eyes shifted uneasily. The silences during their awkward talks agitated him to no end. So he diverted his attention to the evening sky, a mix of yellows and oranges, pinks and blues, purples and indigos. Clouds lazily floated through the splash of colors as easily as a boat in a still stream. For awhile he could not place what this masterpiece reminded him of. Now he knew. It reminded him of her.

"At least it's a start…" He said under his breath.

Their eyes met suddenly. A smile filled with hope was etched across Sarah's face. She had heard him. Chuck felt the nerves he had forgotten he had possessed return with a vengeance. He found himself smiling like an idiot, and would've found this demeaning if it had been on any other occasion, but for now he let it go.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and Chuck closed his eyes. His arm found its way around her shoulders and she closed the space between them until their bodies were touching.

They both watched as the sun dipped out of sight beneath the great body of water, spreading its last glorious rays out as if in struggle to cling onto the sky as it sunk.

"Can I ask you something?" Sarah said to him, her eyes finding his.

"Hmm?"

"Remember when we were here last time and I asked you to trust me?"

Chuck nodded, "Yes."

"Well, are you willing to make that same commitment again?" She asked with promise in her tone.

"I will try," he said after a moment.

Sarah grinned but did not push her luck. Earning Chuck's trust was enough for her. She could wait for everything to fall into place when the time was right.

But Chuck surprised her when he dipped his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss was soft and seemingly endless. It was unlike anything Sarah imagined it to be. Chuck had been forced into a night of petty sex the evening before when she had broken into his house.

But this was different now.

He had initiated the first kiss and there was actual emotion behind it. It was not for control, or for pay back. It gave Sarah hope that he could be fixed. There was still some of the Chuck she fell for inside of him. It was just buried way down.

Their kiss lasted up until the tune to the _Mexican Hat Dance_ started to blare loudly, breaking both their concentration. Chuck pulled away first, a sheepish grin on his face. He dug into his pocket and then checked the caller ID.

His brows furrowed, "its Casey."

"Maybe he's just checking on you?" Sarah offered. "My phone lost its reception…and he assumes I've found you by now."

"Right, maybe you should talk to him. I don't feel like getting yelled at."

He handed her the IPhone and Sarah put the receiver to her ear.

"Casey, this is Sarah. I've found Chuck, what's going on?"

Chuck fell back into the sand waited patiently for the call to end. Maybe after Sarah was done talking to Casey they could resume mending their relationship. The spark that had greatly diminished since her leaving was coming alive once more.

He rested his palm on his chest and shut his eyes. He could feel his heart beating in a steady rhythm.

_It's alive._

He felt happiness for the first time wash over him.

_I'm alive._

"—Ok, we'll be right over. Bye."

A long dreaded silence overcame the beach. Chuck knew something was wrong. He opened his eyes and looked at Sarah. She was holding the phone in her hands, her face contorted with worry.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he sat up.

Sarah bit her lip. She looked to Chuck and said, "There has been a breach at Castle. Four men are down and counting."

"How?" Chuck shouted in disbelief. "Was it the Ring? What the hell happened?"

"Shaw escaped, Chuck."

He froze and so did time. He slowly crawled up to his feet, turning his back on Sarah. She watched him standing there with his fists clenching as well as his eyes growing cold and unfocused. For a moment she lost her breath. Chuck had vanished before her eyes and the monster she tried to cage had been freed once more.

"You should never have tried to stop me from killing him!" he shouted angrily.

"Chuck! I—I didn't know that he was going to…break out," but it was too late. He was already on the move, stalking up the sand and leaving her behind.

Sarah watched him disappear into the darkness with troubled eyes.

She hoped she would be strong enough to pull him back from the edge one last time.

If not, then she'd lose him forever.


	6. Intersect vs Intersect

Sarah had no expected Chuck's despondent mood to abate over the drive back to Castle and therefore was unsurprised that he communicated mainly by shooting her quick, furtive glances (thinking she was not looking) or just staring contemplatively at the passenger's window. It was this prickly silence that made Sarah extremely worried. She knew that Chuck brooding was never a good thing. And since he was twice as broken, damaged—dare she admit it, _unstable, _she could not help but to fear for what was to come, because whatever _it _was, it was coming.

All the hopefulness regarding Chuck and a possible recovery had evaporated once she told him about Shaw and his escape from his prison. She saw the hurt and betrayal waver in his gaze, believing that it was her fault for preventing Chuck from ending Shaw's life. Constantly letting Chuck down proved to her how useless she really was.

_I only keep hurting him, and no matter what I do,_ she thought morosely. _He will never be the Chuck I fell in love with. _

Even with this sad realization, her only saving grace was when she drove into the Buy More plaza, parking right alongside the boardwalk with the Orange Orange adjacent to the car. A sigh passing her closed lips, Sarah removed the key from the ignition and the engine gurgled to an abrupt stop.

Sarah shifted her glance to peak quickly at Chuck. He was still fixated with the fogged-up window and the darkness that lay outside. Brown eyes were cold and unreadable. A flicker of something inscrutable appeared on his stony features and the mask he upheld faltered; showing her a maddening glint in his eyes. This caused Sarah's stomach to lurch unexpectedly.

"Sarah…"

Her fingers were gripping the seatbelt, knuckles white. She blinked furiously and the sickness soon began to subside. Chuck was staring at her, puzzled by the fear so evident in her countenance.

"Yes?" She asked unsurely.

He bowed his head, saying. "Be careful."

Sarah nodded stiffly; fiddling with her seatbelt until she heard it click open. With her gaze averted, she did not notice that Chuck was still staring at her. He watched as she nervously struggled to free herself from the seatbelt's constraints and then flung the car door open. Once she had made her exit, he was left alone in the passenger's seat, a brow raised in his confusion.

Chuck remained there for a few more moments before that strange tight feeling in his chest loosened and got out of the car as well. He rounded the borrowed Crown Victoria with a burden weighing heavily on his conscious. All he could think about was—_Shaw, Shaw, Shaw must die. Shaw killed Ellie. Shaw killed Devon. Shaw killed their unborn daughter. Daniel Shaw ruined my life. Daniel Shaw took Sarah away from me._

Chuck did not say a word while approaching the Orange Orange; seeing Casey waiting out in front had him forgo his vengeful daze walked up to his partner, hands stashed casually in his pockets.

Casey eyed him wearily. "Where the hell were you?"

Chuck shrugged his shoulders, his eyes following Sarah as she came up beside them. He said, "It doesn't matter. I'm here now aren't I?"

The Colonel looked between Chuck and Sarah and grunted. "Whatever, at least the Vic is back in one piece."

"What's going on here, John?" Sarah interjected suddenly. Her voice wavered with nervous apprehension. "Is Shaw still—?"

"Yeah, I was getting to that. Shaw's somewhere inside of Castle," Casey explained at once. "Security is down, but still managed to prevent him from feeling the perimeter completely."

"He thinks there's still a way out," Chuck mused lowly.

Sarah gave him a look, but it did not stop the smile from creeping into his face.

"Right," Casey affirmed gruffly. He knew better than to interrupt Chuck once he was lost in his little world of his. He resumed, "That's why each of us needs to guard one of the three exits in Castle in case he tries to escape."

The childlike smile twisted into something of a carnivorous smirk, his eyes glittering in the moonlight: hungry.

Sarah felt her skin crawl. There it was again: the monster. It was like a demon possessed his body, taking him over as he changed, becoming restless, ugly. The masked had slipped indefinitely and now his true colors were being shown.

"—Bartowski, you take the hatch entrance in the Home Theater room." Casey's stern voice brought Sarah back to the conversation. "Walker, you take the Orange Orange, and I'll take the Break Room."

"Got it," She replied numbly.

Casey narrowed his eyes when he caught Chuck staring through him to the Orange Orange's entrance. The older man cleared his throat and snapped Chuck back from his longing trance.

Casey growled, "You get that?"

The feral grin spread wider as if it was possible. Chuck said dreamily, "Of course I did. It's me after all."

"Then let's get this bastard so we can call it a night," Casey said, adding. "I need my beauty sleep…"

The three spies wordlessly separated into their respective directions. Casey headed out first, not stopping to give either of them a second glance. Sarah however, stalled. She watched Chuck as he entered Castle with almost a skip to his step. He was humming under his breath until he was a great distance away.

Sarah looked into the darkened hallway for an instant; a chill passing through her body.

"Be careful, Chuck." She whispered under her breath.

And with much effort on her part, Sarah reached behind her waistband and drew her gun.

She knew that Daniel Shaw would not survive the night if Chuck got to him first.

That was something Sarah was willing to bet her life on.

* * *

It was all quiet on the Castle front, not a word spoken but for the mindless taunts and jeers that encompassed the entire underground base. A single figure traipsed down the single hallway. His hands jammed in his pockets, eyes darting aimlessly around the shadows.

"DANNY!" He called out at the top of his lungs. "You can come out now! Don't be afraid!"

Chuck was met with nothing but the sound of his voice echoing around Castle's hollow walls. He pursed his lips together into a pout. It was irritating to him that finding the traitor was becoming increasingly difficult as time passed. In fact, it was grating on his nerves.

As he crept down the empty halls, the knife hidden in his back pocket felt heavier, almost weighing him down to a sluggish walk. The need to extract his revenge on Shaw was clouding his mind, not to mention judgment. He was not being as careful as he should.

"C'mon Danny, I just wanna talk!" he yelled again. "No hard feelings about murdering my family in cold blood."

Like Chuck expected, there was no response.

He sighed.

Then an idea struck him.

An evil smile took over his features and he said in an oddly calm voice: "What would Eve say if she saw what you had done in her name? I think she'd be rolling in her grave if she knew how many people you made suffer because you were too incompetent to protect her." He paused and heard some heavy breathing. Then he pressed on, "Or maybe…she wouldn't say anything at all. Seeing as she's probably burning in Hell where you'll soon be—"

Chuck was interrupted by a surprise tackle to his side. He was launched to the hard floor, his head connecting to its surface. He had no time to recover because Daniel Shaw had him pinned down on his back, punching him repeatedly without remorse.

Despite this, Chuck began to laugh.

"What—the—hell—are—you—laughing—at—?" Shaw snarled and continued to wail mercilessly onto Chuck. He was about to grab his gun and finish the job, but Chuck's inane laughter rang in his ears, deafening him into brief immobility.

Chuck took this chance to summon all the strength he had; grabbing Shaw by the throat and throwing off his stomach. The gun clattered to the ground and when Chuck straightened up to his feet, he kicked the weapon to the side.

Shaw coughed, rubbing his throat and he glared at Chuck through vehement eyes. He staggered upright into a weakened fighting position. Chuck was smiling lopsidedly; scratching his nose with extreme amusement.

"It's over, Shaw." He said. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day, and how many ways I've dreamed of killing you. But this," he held his arms out, "Is way too easy, even for a _pathetic _wannabe spy like me."

"No!" Shaw spat, "It's not over until you and Sarah are dead!"

Chuck laughed again, but louder this time.

"Oh you," he giggled. "Shaw you're like a child throwing a tantrum. Sarah did not kill Evelyn on purpose, it was a fucking accident. But you killing my family, well," his cheerful attitude vanished before Shaw's eyes. "That wasn't. The sooner you can get that through your head, the better."

Shaw shot daggers at Chuck, but dread was beginning to tamper with his emotions. This was not the Chuck he had manipulated years ago. This wasn't some inexperienced nerd who had no business being a government agent. This wasn't even the psycho who had tried to kill him earlier that day…

This was a calculating, precise monster.

Knowing that he was the sole reason for this had Shaw at loss for breath.

But he still had one ace up his sleeve.

Chuck tilted his head curiously to the side. He said thoughtfully, "You know…you were never the super spy everyone made you out to be. It's disappointing almost…"

Shaw grinned. He pointed to his head and explained, "After I gave up the Cipher schematics to the Ring, they began constructing their own Intersect. I volunteered myself to be the first candidate and—"

"—I suspected that the Ring finally got their own Intersect. Of course," he said with a wolfish grin. "I didn't know who was the special someone; Beckman demoted me from my first job before I could figure that out…I'm sure you know how over-zealous I got during my solo missions…she needed to keep an eye on me at all times."

"No one is watching you now," determined Shaw.

"That's just how I want it to be," Chuck replied wickedly. He unsheathed his switchblade from behind his back, going on, "Intersect versus Intersect…who would've thought?"

His eyes rolled back into his head when the flash overtook him; Shaw felt himself being overwhelmed by the Intersect's influence as well.

The fight began almost at once. Once the flashes receded, Shaw was the first to attack. He punched and kicked, doing all it took to throw Chuck off his balance and into the ground where he would be vulnerable. But Chuck was doing more than holding his own. He dodged all of his opponent's moves before they were even telegraphed. His maneuvers were flawless and smooth; all the while a lazy albeit confident smirk remained stuck to his face.

He twirled the blade in his fingers before making a downward motion. He slashed Shaw below the knee, making him cry out in surprised pain. Chuck grinned and taunted, "I thought you could do better than that."

Shaw growled, twisting around to punch Chuck but missed. Chuck ducked quickly then punched him hard in the face. Shaw staggered back, his nose broken and a bloodied mess. Tears were leaking from his eyes, but he recovered, coming back to match Chuck punch-to-punch.

_I've clearly underestimated him, _Shaw thought while evading another swipe of the blade's sharp edge. _I thought it was impossible for Chuck to master the Intersect, but I guess all he needed was the right motivation._

Chuck took Shaw by the throat once more with his free hand; slamming him against the wall. Shaw gasped for breath when his skull rammed into hard concrete. His vision blurred but he could still see the sickeningly evil look cross Chuck's once innocent face.

"Well that was fun," he said and smirked. "Now, where were we?"

"You're insane," Shaw sneered.

Chuck pressed the knife to his lips and replied, "How about we keep that a secret just between you and me?"

Suddenly, Shaw felt something sharp slide into his flesh and push into his gut. He groaned, knowing that Chuck caught him off guard and stabbed him with the knife. It felt like fire tearing through his lower abdomen.

"This is for Ellie," he heard Chuck say and tears were spilling from the younger man's eyes. The knife pushed deeper, "This is for Devon," it sunk until the hilt only showed, "and this is for my niece who never got a chance to live because of you!"

Chuck drew the knife from Shaw in one swift motion. Copious amounts of blood spilt onto the floor, covered the blade, Chuck, and poured from Shaw's bluing lips. He could barely stand; everything was spinning out of control. The tortured look in Chuck's eyes told him everything: he was going to die.

"Chuck, what happened?" A voice shouted out a minute later.

Chuck was staring down Shaw's bleeding form, engrossed with watching the man who took everything from him lose his life. He wanted to see the light leave those heartless eyes of his. He had too.

"Chuck, please!"

He wouldn't hear of it.

The voice persisted. "Oh my God, Shaw…"

No, no, not again. He would not let his guard down because of her. This had to happen. Shaw had to pay. Shaw had to die.

But something warm engulfed Chuck's body. It was almost as if he was being exorcised of some darkness, freed from the torment of the past. Years of bloodthirsty revenge began to slip through him like it was a bad dream. The darkness that held him prisoner was slowly lifting its veil; Chuck was starting to see again.

As Shaw's life began to end, Chuck's was beginning once more.

A real smile grew on his bloodstained face and he felt light. He turned around to see Sarah standing a few feet from him, her gun drawn in horror.

"Sarah," he said breathlessly. It was like seeing her for the first time in years. "I—"

He never finished. A single gunshot fired in the hallway. Chuck gasped aloud in surprise. Something struck him in the back, burning hot. He looked at Sarah unblinkingly, his brown eyes glazing over.

"CHUCK!" She screamed.

Chuck fell to the ground. Shaw was leaning up against the wall, bathed in blood but somehow holding a gun by his limp fingers. He was heaving his last breaths, but a triumphant smirk crossed his face as he aimed his gun to Sarah, ready to fire another shot…

Sarah did not think twice. She shot him twice in the chest and he slumped into a heap on the floor, dropping the gun in the process. She approached Shaw's trembling body and stood above it with a cold glare. She was shaking with white hot rage, possessed by the demon that lived in Chuck for so long.

Revenge was in her eyes.

"Shoot…him…shoot the sumbitch." Chuck's voice was barely audible. "In….the….head…."

Sarah remembered all those movie nights she had been invited to by Chuck for the sake of the cover. Hundreds of horror movies, something she believed her life resembled now more than ever, and she realized what she had to do.

* * *

_"See," Chuck says with a mouthful of popcorn. He points at the TV, "In horror movies, the main characters aren't always safe. That means anything goes, so you gotta be prepared for the worst. And the killer is naturally super strong, almost invincible."_

_Sarah is sitting on the couch curled beside Chuck. Ellie and Devon are standing behind them drinking beer, laughing at the seriousness in Chuck's tone. On the television screen, the film's protagonist is running down the stairs of a house while the killer chases her, waving a knife like a maniac._

_"And how do we become prepared?" Sarah asks him, her eyes sparkling with amusement while her lips make a sly grin. Chuck blushes at her obvious playfulness; clumsily sets the popcorn down on the table and holds a finger up to explain._

_"When you're confronted with a psychopath, you need to know that shooting him or stabbing him won't have any effect whatsoever."_

_Ellie rolls her eyes, "Only in the movies, little brother."_

_But Sarah nods enthusiastically causing his face to go banana red._

_"Yeah, but back to my point," he resumes with a nervous twitch, "when you're confronted with a killer like good ole Ghostface here, you have two options—"_

_"Blow him up," Awesome interjects with swig of his beer. _

_"Or shoot him in the head," Chuck finishes wisely. "It works every time."_

_"Almost every time," Morgan corrects as he steps into his apartment. "There are always sequels my friend." He looks at the TV and nods appraisingly. "**Scream**, nice choice dude."_

_He rounds the couch and grabs the popcorn, squeezing on the couch between Chuck and Sarah. He stuffs his mouth with a handful of the snack and watches the movie. The movie is at its climax; the dead body of the killer rises from the ground and surprises the surviving characters with a blade in his hand. The female news reporter draws a gun and shoots the killer in the forehead and he falls to the floor with a thud. He's definitely dead this time._

_"Oh Courtney Cox-Arquette," Morgan sighs dreamily. "You can save me any day."_

_Chuck looks over Morgan to meet Sarah with a lopsided smile. She smiles back and everything feels like it'll be alright. She realizes she can live there with Chuck forever and be perfectly content._

_But she can't…_

_

* * *

_

Shaw was gasping for his last breaths of air. Sarah was brought back from the past, her gun aiming directly at his forehead. Her eyes narrowed into slits and before he could react, she fired a single shot.

It was deafening.

It felt as though everything had been put on hold, suspending time, space and everything in between. Shaw was on his back, his body limp and motionless. His dead eyes were still wide with surprise. A tiny bullet hole marked his forehead and blood trickled down from the fatal wound.

Daniel Shaw was finally dead.

Sarah stood there with the gun still pointing at the lifeless corpse. Smoke billowed from the muzzle; she could barely see, and tears were falling from her eyes as she finally succumbed to a choking sob. A second past and she dropped the gun and turned her back on Shaw. Chuck was on the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes were cracked open; bright brown eyes (the brightest Sarah had ever seen) stared at her in wonder.

"Y—you came back for me…" he wheezed.

She dropped to her knees and gathered Chuck in her lap. Her hands running through his damp hair, caressing his face as it grew sallow and pale. He felt so cold.

"I'll always come back for you," she promised him in a soothing tone. "_Always…"_

A tiny, but pure smile appeared weakly on his bloodied lips. His body began to feel abnormally light, like he was liberated from all the burden and guilt. But it felt like something else had gone missing. The lids of his eyes drooped closed and he took a long laboring breath.

Sarah saw this and her heart was racing. Her grip on Chuck became tighter and unwilling to let him go. As she rocked him back and forth in her embrace, she looked over her shoulder and yelled into the darkness with tears flowing freely from her terrified eyes.

"Somebody, please help! I need help!"

She tore her gaze from the hallway and focused back to Chuck. His head lolled back in her arms, his lips slightly parted. With the smile set on his face, he appeared to be at peace. Sarah buried her head in the crook of his neck, refusing to let go.

"Hang in there, Chuck….don't leave. You can't do this to me, please—I love you too much."

Chuck remained still in her arms as Sarah continued to cry.


	7. What Now?

**Epilogue**

It had been awhile.

A few years, maybe. Time had lost its meaning since the attack and the devastation that had followed immediately after. But it did not really matter much anymore. He was there now. After all this time, all the agony and pain he had sustained since their passing, he finally managed to overcome it.

He was ready now.

A month or so had passed since Chuck had almost lost his life. He was still weak from his near-death experience, a bullet wound that had been fortunate enough to strike him in the back. It barely missed his spine; still nicking a nerve that reduced one leg to a slight limp. So he was recovering now. It was slow, but soon he wouldn't need to use a cane for support. He had already graduated from the wheelchair, mostly out of stubbornness (even if rolling around the hospital halls was exhilarating, not to mention _fun_) and being able to stand on his own, to actually walk, it gave him the strength he needed to move on.

It was the tail end of summer in Burbank, and the August sun shone through the cemetery with its hopeful light glimmering between the trees and tombstones. Chuck limped from the parking lot with Sarah by his side, Yorrick tagging along but staying unusually quiet. They walked down the leaf-covered path, hand-in-hand.

Chuck had been relatively happy the moment he had awakened from his medical coma three weeks earlier. It seemed after Shaw's death, he had somehow been absolved of that detachment—rage that became ravenous in his life since Sarah had originally abandoned him. He knew that it still lingered; but it was deep, buried beneath the emotion he never thought he'd feel again. It was impossible for him to completely recover from such trauma, and he wasn't a complete moron. There would always be that piece of him, that darkness just waiting to break out at a moment of weakness.

He knew that feeling of emptiness had temporarily left him once he had first opened his eyes in the hospital. Everything was so bright. There was color when he had though he had become blinded by the darkness within his heart to see vitality. And the first thing he had felt was the warmth of _her _hand resting upon his. Chuck learned from the nurses that Sarah had not left his side since he was admitted to the hospital. It touched his heart, causing it to respond in a way he thought was impossible.

And since then, Sarah had still yet to leave him. She made sure everything was going to be alright. Her softly spoken words managed to have a hold on Chuck, making him believe them to the fullest. Because with this second chance, he felt that he could not waste it on the past.

If he could survive a bullet that should've surely killed him (or at least paralyzed him), then Sarah deserved to share his second berth of life as well. She had earned it, and he had seen past his clouded thoughts of her 'betrayal' and could finally forgive.

So he was now in the process of this forgiveness. He forgave Sarah for leaving him. Now he had to just somehow forgive himself.

And yet, no matter how much relief and elation came into his life, it was never enough to cover the sorrow that would be there, with him until the end of time.

Chuck studied the headstones as he and Sarah walked past them, none of the names were familiar. It was uncomfortable to be there, where the dead rested. He tried to think of the last time he was there. He knew he couldn't bring himself to attend his sister's funeral. The state of shock had been still coursing through his veins, making it impossible for him to function sanely.

That meant the last time he was there was at Bryce's fake funeral.

They were nearing the end of the pathway and then the headstones grew in size; a gentle wind blew through the cemetery, tousling Chuck's growing curls in the breeze. Sarah touched his shoulder, her eyes searching into his, looking for some inclination of what he was feeling. If anything at all.

"We're here," she told him after a brief pause.

Yorrick sat on his hind legs beside Sarah. His tongue was sticking out, lapping because of the humidity. Chuck turned his shoulder a little, to get a better view of his them. Sarah's hand dropped down to her side; hands fisting a bouquet of flowers and a dog leash. She stared with her blue eyes, unsure but bright and sympathetic all the same.

Chuck offered a tiny smile to ward off her uneasiness.

He asked lowly, "Hey, do you think you can give me a moment?"

She stalled at first but her gaze dropped to the graves and then nodded with complete understanding. Her eyes were already misting and Chuck wasn't sure whether it was in sadness or some sort of relief. She wiped the tear from her cheek.

"I'll just go walk around," she said, voice thick. "Here are the flowers."

Chuck limped towards her, retrieving the flowers like they were some sort of priceless artifact. He then dropped the cane to the earthy ground, only to grab her hand in his and squeezed, his thumb tracing over her knuckles slowly. Her stared into her wet eyes and started to feel his moisten as well.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for everything, Sarah." He leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a loving kiss, something he did not think he could be capable of. When they parted, Sarah was now crying. Chuck felt a pang in his chest and his throat began to swell with overwhelming emotion.

Sarah ran her fingers over Chuck's face with a soft caress and a smile grew on her lips. Her hand dropped and she backed from him, giving him the necessary privacy. She bent down and picked up the cane, handing it back to Chuck. He took it.

"I won't be far," she promised.

Chuck nodded. He watched in silence as she turned her back on him and walked down the cemetery path, with Yorrick padding along, barking with excitement.

He sighed. His throat had closed on him indefinitely. Rotating back so that he was facing the next row of graves, Chuck saw the three he had been looking for. The knot in his stomach twisted some more until he could no longer breathe.

Chuck let the cane slip from his grasp once more. He knelt in front of the headstones and then, while never taking his eyes off the three names, presented the flowers only to set them carefully down on the graves. Tears silently streamed down his cheeks, which were blemished from the heat. He sniffed and pressed the palm of his head on the middle headstone.

"Ellie," he started. The sorrow was plain as day in his voice. His brown eyes sparkled with recent tears as he swallowed and willed himself to continue. "Ellie, a lot has happened since you left. Most of them weren't very good…I blame myself for that though. But I'm trying to get better." He gave a watery smile while thinking of Sarah, Casey, Morgan, Alex: what remained of his family. He sniffed again. "Uh, Sarah came back and we're trying to make it work. For real this time, because it was never real and I lied about that to you for years…I'm so sorry. All I did was lie to you and that's why I couldn't get myself to come see you. The truth is, I am a spy and—"His voice cracked as he spoke and his bottom lip trembled. It was so hard. "Because I couldn't tell you, I've been feeling like all of this is _my _fault. The fact of the matter is that it _will _alwaysbe my fault. I let you, Devon, and little Rebecca down…_"_

Chuck used the back of his hand to dry his eyes that were leaking. Through blurry vision, he could see the three graves marked by three marble headstones. Each of them engraved with the lives lost: Eleanor Faye Bartowski, Devon Christian Woodcomb, and Rebecca Lynn Woodcomb. Even with such a somber mood surrounding the cemetery, these graves were strikingly beautiful. They sparkled in the waning sunlight; the brightly colored flowers vibrant and adding life to such a lifeless place.

"—But living in the past, feeling all of this guilt, constantly blaming myself for something I think I could've prevented even though it was out of my control," Chuck went on, "It needs to stop. If I continue to think about how I could not save you Ellie, I…" He could not find the words to finish. "So that's why I need to leave. I know you would be happy to know that I am leaving Burbank," he chuckled in spite of his tears. "For good this time, I think. I, uh, I'm not going to be a spy anymore. And Sarah is quitting too; we're going to go do what we should've done years ago…"

Chuck inhaled a long winding breath, his hands gripping the grass in order to retain some semblance of control. The feeling of suffocating under his heavy burden weighed him down to the graves. But he had to push on. He had to face this.

Chuck was shaking now, reading the names over and over again because they did not belong there. He forced himself to speak: "I miss you, Ellie. I miss all of you, so, so much. I promise that I'll make you proud. I'll be the man you wanted me to be, okay? I won't let you down again. I'm so sorry."

When he finished, Chuck tightly closed his eyes and then buried his face in his grass-stained hands. He breathed in and out until his heart no longer threatened to burst from his chest. He was slowly finding it easier to think, and what remainder of the blame still resonated deep within him, began to dissipate. It would always stay there, like he said, but it was lessening.

Just like everything would eventually.

"I think Ellie misses you too, son." A voice spoke up after a moment of silence.

Chuck looked up from his hands, craning his neck to see his father standing over by a tree. He was dressed casually; hair long and untamed, matted to his forehead. Wrinkles lined his aging face, proving just how old he was becoming. Stephen approached his youngest, holding a hand out for Chuck.

Looking up at his absent father, Chuck took his hand and was lifted to his feet. He wobbled off-balance without using the cane as a crutch. But he soon steadied himself and stared unsurely at the man who had told him he wanted nothing to do with him.

"I heard you replaced the Governor," Chuck mumbled. His hand absently touched the silver watch on his left wrist.

Stephen nodded. "It broke after Daniel Shaw shot you. Sarah, when she wasn't waiting for you to wake up, was trying to find me to build you a new one."

Chuck's heart warmed when thinking of both Sarah and his father. But then his brows furrowed in confusion when he asked, "She did not know about the Governor."

"Casey told her," Stephen explained. "I was surprised too. She somehow found me, again. This time without my help."

There was a pause.

"I thought you didn't want associate yourself with me?"

His father sighed. "After your sister passed, I was devastated just like you. I thought that all of this could've been avoided just if you would've stopped being a spy. To know you joined something I thought you wanted out of…it angered me." Stephen looked towards the graves then back at Chuck. He looked older. "Because being a spy is how I lost everything, I didn't want you to relieve it."

"I quit," Chuck mentioned suddenly.

Stephen smiled, "I know. I heard. You're aces, Charles."

Chuck's eyes began to water and he looked down and away, ashamed. It was surprising to hear his father actually speak to him again. It was a nice gesture.

"Thank you, Dad." He said breathlessly.

It surprised Chuck even more when he felt his father's arms come around him, enveloping him into a tight embrace. Chuck went rigid and still at first, still not so used to hugs. But then he muscles weakened and he felt more relaxed. He returned the hug; they parted an instant later, father and son reconciled.

"Live a good life," said Stephen wisely.

Chuck nodded mutely. He was still unable to formulate a coherent sentence. He was a bubbling mess filled with lady feelings that would make Casey bleed from his eyes. It was such a foreign notion, but as the feeling continued to return, it felt like these emotions had never really left him. They were just locked away, like everything else.

It was like life had been on hold for the past several years.

Someone had just finally found the switch to push everything back into motion again.

"—I love you, Charles," his father was saying. He slowly backed away and began to leave. "Be careful."

"Wait, Dad!" Chuck yelled. He took a step forward but stumbled from his injured leg. He winced. "What if I need you?"

A grin spread across his father's features. It made him looks years younger. "Sarah has it."

Chuck straightened up, his leg throbbing. He was smiling as well. Of course: Sarah. It was always Sarah.

"Goodbye…" he said in a hushed whisper.

"Who were you talking too?"

Chuck blinked, turning around. There was Sarah. She had a perplexed look on her face but it was so endearing that it elicited a smile to form at the edges of Chuck's lips. Yorrick came dashing down the field of graves, barking happily to see his master.

"No one," he replied. It was better not to say anything. Sarah saw the lie but let it go.

"Well," she said reaching into her purse. Chuck's eyes dropped and he groaned inwardly. "I almost forgot that that you have to take your pills. I had to make a run back to the car for them."

"That's not really necessary," Chuck protested.

Sarah laughed, "You've been saying that since you woke up."

"For good reason."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you want the Vicodin for your back and leg, you're not that tough Mr. Bartowski." She handed him a few capsules. Chuck blanched. "And then these are your anti-anxiety/aggression pill. Don't spit it out again Chuck. I saw you try that last time."

Chuck studied the large pill with distaste. Taking them made him feel like he was crazy or something of that nature. But truth be told, he sort of was. He knew that after suffering from so much psychological damage he needed something to curb it. Sarah had told him that Casey went to General Beckman directly after the incident and requested for him to be granted the best prescription for what the Colonel called, "Anti-psychopath medication."

Even if he did not want to believe it, they worked like a charm.

There was no more darkly dreaming Chuck…he was mostly at bay. For now, anyways.

Chuck tossed the pills into his mouth and was able to swallow them without water. A month in the ICU of the hospital and he was a pro at pill-popping. He smacked his lips at the bitter taste and looked at a satisfied Sarah.

"We can go now," he said and scratched his nose, a habit of his.

Sarah eyed him and then the cane that was still lying on the grass over by the Woodcombs' gravesite. She let it go; Chuck seemed to be doing just fine without it.

"Go where?" She inquired curiously. "We aren't spies anymore, Chuck. We don't have to report to anyone. You've been discharged by the hospital. We can go anywhere, be anyone, and do anything."

Chuck thought about this for awhile. There was so much to do with so much time left. This was a new chapter of his life. It was a better one. With one last look at the graves, he knew exactly where he wanted to go. Acceptance in his demeanor, he was sure that Ellie would've been proud of him.

Taking Sarah by the hand, Chuck gave her his trademark grin that had been missing since the day she left. She brightened up with amusement.

"You know," he said, meeting her sparkling gaze. "I still have never seen the Eiffel Tower."

Yes, Ellie would've been proud.

END


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